Nihil Novi Sub Mojave Sole
by Antillicus
Summary: The Courier awakes with nothing but the clothes on his back and a mysterious note connecting him to his past. He'll make friends and enemies along the way, searching for clues. Will he and his companions discover the truth?
1. Chapter 1 - Awakenings

The courier opened his eyes slowly. His head was pounding, and light seared his sleep-clouded eyes. He tested his strength and decided to sit up, but regretted it when a blinding pain in his head hit him like a brick wall. He could vaguely hear a voice, and focused on the figure sitting in front of him when his eyes cleared.

"Whoa, easy there, easy! You've been out cold a couple of days now. Why don't you just relax a second? Get your bearings. Let's see what the damage is. How 'bout your name? Can you tell me your name?" The courier struggled to think to formulate a reply for the kindly old man, but grew more and more frustrated. "I...I don't know..." "That's alright...let's just think of something for now. What would you like me to call you?" He racked his brain, searching for answers his mind couldn't provide. "Well, guess I should think of something good, then."

The courier chuckled, then winced in pain. That was dumb of him. "Take your time, now. No need to rush," the old man responded. He thought on this. It should be just right. It should capture his spirit. Searching for the perfect one, he tossed out names. "John...Matthew...James..." He grinned and decided on a distinct name he'd conjured up. "Antillicus." The old man raised an eyebrow. "I can't say it's what I'd have picked for you, but if that's your name, that's your name." Antillicus smiled, satisfied. Now to discover who he truly was...

Antillicus had spent enough time with Doc Mitchell, he decided. The kindly man suggested he talk to Sunny Smiles in the saloon, but he was more concerned with a note that the doctor had found in his belongings. It was one of the few scraps of his past he had. He'd read and re-read the note a few times. It read: "Meet Boxcars at Nipton for dynamite shipment - Grace". Antillicus had snorted upon reading "Boxcars". What kind of name is that? he wondered to himself. He reconsidered, however, after thinking of his own new name. He stuffed the cryptic note back into his pocket. His hand brushed the cool metal of his 9mm and a slight smile crossed his face. He couldn't quite place his finger on why, but he remembered the weapon. He decided that he should start with finding his way to Nipton.

The first idea to cross his mind was to ask for directions. He knew where Goodsprings was, vaguely - the Pip-Boy the doctor gave him showed him roughly where he was - but more comprehensive instructions were needed. Maybe talking to Sunny was a good idea after all.

As he strolled into the aging saloon, shutting the door behind him, he noticed a smell of dust and booze in the air. He'd smelled it before. A leather-clad woman smiled at him. "Howdy! I'm Sunny Smiles, and she's Cheyenne," she said, gesturing towards an alert mongrel at her feet. He stooped to pet the friendly-looking mutt, then stood. "Hello, Sunny. I'm assuming word's gotten around about me already." "Right you are," she replied, grinning. "An-tillicus. What a name." The courier shrugged. "I needed one, I suppose it's good enough." Sunny nodded. "So, what'd you need?" she queried. "I'm wondering how to get to Nipton from here." She glanced at the device on his arm. "I suppose I could show you the safe way on that Pip-Boy."


	2. Chapter 2 - Contention

Antillicus gazed at his wrist, then looked up. There it was, Primm. A rickety old roller coaster snaked around a derelict building, highlighting the town's unique landmark. As he approached the town, his boots kicking up dust on the crumbling road beneath his feet, a shout grabbed his attention. "Hey, hope you're not planning on going into Primm. Whole place is overrun with escaped convicts. If you stay on the right side of the overpass, you won't get shot." The courier eyed the NCR trooper with mild disinterest, then glanced at Primm. Something in him made him itch for a fight, but not enough to be dumb about it. He ultimately decided on talking to the man in charge there.

Lieutenant Hayes rubbed his forehead impatiently. "You're gonna get yourself killed if you run in there like that. I can't spare any men. We're barely holding our own against the Powder Gangers as it is." The day was a hot one, and being inside this tent certainly wasn't helping. As the brown-haired lanky man in front of him energetically laid out his plan on the flimsy card table, its legs wobbled and shook. "Look, if I go in at night, I can take them out, one by one," the courier insisted. Hayes was growing impatient. "Fine, but don't expect us to drag your body back here after those convicts finish with you."

Antillicus grinned as he crossed the ruined overpass, the pitch-black night concealing his approach. There were only stars overhead this night. He hasn't expected it to be so cold tonight, but the desert is a strange place. He considered his options. He would need to use his knife, at first. There were too many roaming about. Luckily, the darkness was on his side.

Using the crumbling buildings to the south for cover, he stealthily maneuvered behind a lone lookout. Glancing at the knife in his hand and hefting its weight, he prepared to strike. Antillicus quickly wrapped his hand around the man's mouth and plunged the combat knife deep in his chest, aiming for the heart, his instincts guiding it. He could feel the blade grate against a rib as it entered and then pierced vital tissue. The convict's mouth gaped as the courier released his grip, letting the rapidly bleeding man slide to the ground, his crimson blood slowly pooling. Antillicus disliked getting so close. He didn't remember killing before, but it felt...natural.

Unfortunately, he learned he hadn't quite gone unnoticed. Gunfire rang out and bullets kicked up dirt around his feet and chipped pieces of brick off of the wall next to him. He felt the sting of the stone shrapnel's impact against his cheek. Breathless, he exchanged his knife for his 9mm. He peered out from behind the wall, then ducked back as a bullet whizzed by his head.

He crept back around behind the building, planning on flanking the source of the gunfire. As he peeked around the northwest corner, he could make out a couple dark figures crossing the street. He raised his pistol and aimed carefully, then squeezed the trigger. The first figure slumped over after being lit up by the gunshot. The second scrambled behind a wrecked car. Antillicus cursed and rummaged in his pack for a grenade. He pulled the pin and quickly tossed the frag towards the car, then took cover behind the wall.

One explosion was followed by a much larger one, nearly deafening him. Peeking out from cover, he stared at the mushroom cloud rising from the shredded and blackened remains of the car. Damn, he thought to himself. I guess safety wasn't a big priority with those things. He then remembered that the explosion would have been heard for miles around. Cursing beneath his breath, he ducked inside the building he had taken cover behind, not noticing the Mojave Express sign atop it.


	3. Chapter 3 - A Crossing of Paths

Once inside with the door shut, Antillicus cast a look about the dingy, dim interior. It was lit by a small lightbulb rigged to a fusion battery. It cast long shadows as he approached the counter in front of him. An inactive eyebot lay on the far end from him, as well as a dusty radio. He tried the radio, but he noticed it was missing several parts when he cracked the case to look inside. He turned his attention to the battered eyebot and suddenly had a brilliant idea.

This was a great idea, he thought, as his new robotic companion zapped convict after convict. A few spare parts was all it took to rig the 'bot back to working order. He was certainly appreciative of the fact that Pre-War tech was designed to last a few centuries. He joined his metal friend and fired a few shots off at the remaining three enemies. He holstered his pistol, satisfied yet stoic after his victory. A scream echoed from across the street, and the robot quickly responded with a staccato "pchoo!" from its laser. The voice stopped instantly. Antillicus turned towards his new companion, and noticed the dented license plate attached to him bearing the letters "ED-E". "Hmmm...nice to meet you, Eddie." He smiled.

Hayes couldn't believe his ears. "You...you killed all of them? The man in front of him who called himself Antillicus nodded. "Well...we heard that car explode, and we figured it took you with it," the lieutenant stated. "We certainly didn't expect you to beat them. Thanks, I guess...you've made our job quite a bit easier." The courier smiled in a charismatic manner, then spoke. "You're welcome. Can't let myself get rusty, can I? I, uh...don't suppose you could thank me in a more useful way, now, could you?"

Hayes cast a glance about the tent quickly. "I'm not allowed to hire private contractors...but supplies go missing. Powder Gangers and raiders, you know the story." He turned and opened a footlocker that was behind him, pulled out a small sack that jingled, and tossed the sack on the table. "There should be a couple hundred caps in there. Enough to get you stitched back together, huh?" The courier looked confused, until Hayes pointed at his left arm. "Looks like you took some shrapnel."

Antillicus gazed at his arm. Shit, he thought. I hadn't noticed that before. A bit of crimson stained his dusty vault-suit. "Well, I guess I'll get that taken care of." The lieutenant smiled and nodded. "Thanks. I'll make sure word gets around about this." Antillicus smiled briefly and stuffed the small pouch into his pack.

After exiting the tent, he sat down on a bench and gingerly lifted his sleeve. ED-E followed him over and hovered near him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered the source of the blood was just a graze from a piece of shrapnel. Nonetheless, it hurt like hell. He unscrewed the cap off of a bottle of vodka he had in his pack and slowly poured a trickle onto the wound. He hissed as the alcohol did its work, then closed the bottle and stuffed it back in his pack. He then poured cool, purified water to wash away the liquor and bandaged the wound carefully with gauze. Pulling down his sleeve, he stood up and began walking towards the Mojave Outpost confidently, a few hundred caps richer.


	4. Chapter 4 - Dressed In His Sunday Best

The courier ran his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair, letting the long locks fall back into place as he traipsed along the broken black road with ED-E, the Mojave sun beating down on them from high overhead. He rolled up his sleeves to the elbow, exposing his forearms. I need to get some armor, he thought to himself. Something functional, but stylish. Something that fits me. His train of thought was interrupted by gunfire, prompting him to seek refuge in the ditch at the side of the road.

Antillicus peeked over the edge of the parapet-like dugout and watched as Viper gang members approached. He aimed carefully, making his shots count. He popped off one round, hitting one in the neck, and a hail of gunfire whistled through the air around him like a leaden storm in response. They also fired off a volley of various profanities. ED-E fired towards them, but missed a couple shots. Antillicus fired again, unfazed, grazing another in the arm. He muttered a meaningless curse and took another shot, this time landing a bullet in the dirty brunette's cheek.

She dropped without so much as a twitch, with the other two remaining members retreating at the grisly sight of their fallen comrades. The two fell back into the building at the west side of the road, firing haphazardly at him. "Hey, fuck you!" the bald male yelled at him as they shut the doors quickly. Antillicus grinned and stood up again, making his way over to the building. He noted a ramp up to the roof from the west side of the building, and had an idea.

The roof was patchy, with small holes letting sunlight pass through. They hadn't noticed him yet, and he wanted to keep it that way. There were four of them - the bald male who'd cursed him and three women. They were dirty and thin, but an item the man was wearing caught his eye. He admired the sleek, refined look of the leather armor he wore. It was much more appealing than the dingy armor he usually saw. He readied a grenade in his right hand, pulling the pin but holding on to the lever on its side.

While waiting for the correct moment, he caught snatches of conversation. "What the fuck is he waiting for?" a blonde woman asked. The man, who seemed to be in charge, responded. "Don't get antsy. Maybe he just left. Won't do us no good to worry; it'll just screw up your aim." The blonde rolled her eyes, while a Mohawk-adorned woman interjected. "Sounds dumb as hell to me." Antillicus accidentally shifted a bit, and held his breath, hoping they hadn't noticed. They continued in conversation. "Well, you can leave if you're gonna be a bitch about it," Baldy snapped.

Antillicus decided he'd waited long enough and dropped the grenade down a particularly large hole, right into the middle of the group. Before they had time to react, the frag detonated, riddling them with deadly bits of shrapnel. His grin faded as he felt the roof buckling beneath him, then transformed into a look of surprise and slight fear as it collapsed. The last thought that passed through his mind before he fell was "Oh shit."

The courier rubbed the back of his head gingerly where he'd smacked it against the linoleum floor. It hurt, but he was alright. He didn't think he had a concussion. After standing and dusting himself off, he began rummaging through the gang members' belongings. After looting the three ladies, he turned his attention to the leader and his armor, grinning.

With a new spring in his step, Antillicus ventured onward, more confident than ever that he'd discover his true identity, with his new armor and ED-E at his side.


	5. Chapter 5 - Three's A Charm

Cass gazed into her empty glass, feeling downtrodden. She'd been stuck here at the outpost for longer than she cared to remember. Her life wasn't much besides drinking and waiting, now. She chuckled wryly at the mundanity of it. Rose of Sharon Cassidy, reduced to drinking her money at some shit-of-the-earth rundown glorified Brahmin pen.

She was pulled away from her thoughts by the sight of a tall, long-haired man clad in leather armor walking through the door. He leaned against the counter, asking Lacey for an ice-cold Nuka-Cola. As the trader turned around and stretched up to the top shelf, reaching for the drink, Cass noticed him looking her over and felt a pang of jealousy. Nobody takes the time to give me a once-over, she thought. Not that I'd want to get with any of the creeps around here. She returned to gazing at her empty drink.

"Looks like you need a refill there, huh?" The red-haired woman seemed surprised by Antillicus's question, suddenly snapping out of a trance. "Oh, no thanks. I'm just fascinated by the bottom of this glass." He chuckled politely, and pulled up a stool next to her. Quite a sense of humor, he thought.

"Y'know," she said, "I'm probably not the best conversation partner around here. Hell, this whole place is a boring shithole." He was a bit taken aback at her comment. "Well, seems safer than most places I've been lately." Cass shrugged. "True. But once Caesar starts gettin' bold, this place is gonna be the front line." Antillicus nodded. "I suppose that makes sense. Hmm. Interesting statues out there."

He felt a bit sheepish in his attempt to make small talk. The redhead snorted. "Yeah. Interesting's the word. Whole thing's just a giant metal dick with "NCR" painted all over it, just waiting for those Legion assholes to come melt it down into a bull." He chuckled. That was pretty funny, he thought. "Well, I guess everyone's just looking to see who can piss the farthest, huh? Anyway, I'm afraid we haven't been formally introduced."

"You can call me Cass," she said, tipping her dingy hat to him. "I'm Antillicus. Nice to meet you." He boldly offered her his hand. Cass snorted, then sheepishly shook it when she realized he was serious. She noticed he had strong hands, his grip firm but courteous. "So, I'm heading to Nipton. How about you?" he ventured to ask. Cass shrugged and looked back down.

"I ain't heading anywhere anytime soon, that's for damn sure. Red tape's stronger than any rope or chain if you wanna keep someone tied down." He laughed. "All too true. Tell you what...if you didn't have that contract, you think you'd maybe come along with me? I'm always looking for company." He finished off his words with a charismatic toothy grin. Cass laughed. "That's one big if. And what makes you think I'd come with you?" Antillicus chewed his lip thoughtfully, then answered.

"Well, I'm probably the only chance at adventure you've got around here." She mentally snorted. Yeah, a girl could have an adventure with him, she thought. She quickly pushed the idea out of her head, attributing it to the booze. "I suppose you're right..." she replied, trailing off. Antillicus shifted in his seat. "Let me see this contract of yours. Maybe there's a way to get you out of it."

Cass sighed. "You'll be lucky if you find anything helpful." She unfolded a yellowing piece of paper she pulled out of her shirt pocket and handed it to him. Antillicus looked it over, then casually ripped it in half. Cass blinked, then gawked at him. "Why the hell'd you do that?" she snapped. He calmly crumpled up the pieces. "Because it's the only way you're getting out of here."

She sighed and held her head in her hands. "Fine then," she said. "Let's go on some magical fuckin' adventure." Antillicus stood up and laughed. "Hey, at least you'll get to see something besides Brahmin and dirty caravaners. Maybe we'll blow something up!" Cass laughed and shook her head. "If you say so..." He remembered his robot friend waiting outside. "Oh, by the way, I've got a friend outside waiting for me. Just don't be surprised when he follows us." "Oh? What's his name?" she asked. "I just call him Eddie."


	6. Chapter 6 - A Symphony at Dusk

Cass was a bit leery of ED-E at first, but after Antillicus told her stories about how the bot had saved his life, she grew more accepting. "If not for Eddie here, I'd be a bullet-riddled corpse in Primm," said Antillicus, as the trio followed the road east. Cass chewed her lip and shrugged. "Plenty of ways to die in the Mojave. I guess having an extra gun helps cut down that number." The three continued in silence, until ED-E detected a few threats further along the road.

They seemed to be located near a few ruined buildings, according to his sensors. "What is it?" asked Cass. "Well, it looks like there're some people up the road a bit by those buildings. I'm not holding my breath for them to welcome us with open arms." The redhead nodded. "Gotta be some antisocial bastards to live out here. The sun was beginning to set, and they had discussed finding a place to settle down for the night.

"If we wait for it to get a bit darker, we could catch them off guard," stated Antillicus, as he observed the ruins with a pair of dented and scratched binoculars. Cass didn't usually like to trust others' plans, especially with her life, but she had to agree with him on this one. There was a larger building on the left side of the road, its walls still standing, and a smaller building on the right side, which was crumbling.

"There's probably more by the large building. If we take out any on the right, we could probably catch the rest in a crossfire. ED-E's sensors count five of them. You think that'll work?" Cass listened and considered Antillicus's plan as he laid it out. "I don't like those odds, but we're not getting past them by skipping fuckin' rope here. Alright, I suppose that plan's better than most." Antillicus flashed her that toothy grin of his, unnerving her slightly. The man was smoother than a greased weasel.

"Alright, it's dark enough. Ready to move?" asked Antillicus. Cass nodded and replied. "Right behind you, oh Great Maker of Plans." The tall, dark-haired courier chuckled at that. "Let's go." He hefted his knife in his hand, enjoying the feeling of its weight. Cass readied her knife as well. "Wait here, Eddie. When you hear shooting, come help." The bot beeped in response.

The two crept to their hiding place quietly, eyes straining to catch a glimpse of any threats. As they reached the low wall, both could feel their pulses quicken. Antillicus peeked over the crumbling bricks, catching sight of two dirty ruffians, sitting with their backs turned. He pressed close to Cass and whispered in her ear. "There's two facing away from us. I'll get the right one, you get the left." She was slightly embarrassed at his proximity, but nodded. They moved on his signal.

As Antillicus's blade struck home in his target's neck, Cass made her kill as well. Leaving them to bleed out, the pair prepared to fire on the remaining three figures across the road. "You ready?" whispered Antillicus. She nodded, tightening her shotgun against her shoulder. Antillicus steadied his breath, then opened fire.

The sharp crack of the 9mm mixed with the booming report of her 20 Gauge in the night air, sending merciless lead downrange. ED-E's laser also lit up the night. The three figures scrambled for cover, but two were gunned down before they could get far. The third made it into the safety of the crumbling ruins, but his pained voice told them he was hit. "A-alright now, no need to be hasty! You got me. But you don't have to kill me." A grunt of pain followed his statement.

Cass glanced at Antillicus. He shook his head. "He's not gonna give up." She sighed, exasperated. "Dammit. Do we have to kill him?" Antillicus remained silent for a bit, then spoke. "He's wounded. Or he wants us to think he is." He shook his head. "Let's go have a talk with him. Maybe we could work something out."

* * *

Rick had had a bad day. First, he almost got stung by a radscorpion. Then, his four buddies were slaughtered by a couple of douches. Now, he was staring down the barrel of one of their guns. "Alright," said the man aiming at him. "Promise you won't follow us if we let you live." Rick narrowed his eyes.

"You just fuckin' gunned down my friends." The man wore a wry smile. "Like you wouldn't have done the same to us." Rick sneered at them. "Not the pretty redhead. She'd go for quite a few caps." The tall man and the redhead exchanged glances, and Rick noticed his finger tighten around the trigger.

* * *

**Author Note: Hello everyone, and thanks for reading! I'm hoping I'll be able to update this story rather quickly, and I also hope you like it! I'm relatively new to fan fiction, so any reviews are appreciated. Again, thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7 - Red Looks Good On You

Antillicus raised his canteen to his mouth, hoping for a few last drops of water. He was disappointed when none came. He slung it back around his shoulder and reached for his binoculars. Peering through the scratched eyepieces, he saw Nipton, his destination. Something wasn't quite right, however. A pillar of smoke a mile high rose from it, and the inhabitants were nowhere to be seen.

After stuffing his binoculars back into his pack, Antillicus turned to Cass. "Doesn't look good up there," he remarked. The redhead chuckled dryly. "Took you that long to notice?" He rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm just worried who - or what - caused this. We might be outgunned here." She crossed her arms. "Didn't stop us earlier, did it?" A smirk crossed the courier's tanned face. "Let's check it out," he said.

* * *

Antillicus gawked at the poles lining Nipton's main road. "Crucifixion? I mean...Powder Gangers are assholes, sure, but...damn." Cass cursed under her breath and pulled him back behind the building they'd hidden behind. "It's gotta be Legion." Antillicus nodded, slightly taken aback by how she'd manhandled him. "How're we gonna deal with these bastards?" he asked. "I think I have an idea," she replied, as she pulled a few sticks of dynamite out of her pack.

* * *

The trap was set. It had been an arduous task, maneuvering into a position where they could take out the group of Legionaries. Antillicus had positioned himself behind a building to the east, while Cass and ED-E snuck around to their western flank. The signal had been chosen - a short whistle from Antillicus would signal the other two to attack. As he peeked around his cover, Antillicus decided the time was right. He imitated a bird call the best he could with his whistle, and the fun began.

First, the duo tossed a stick of dynamite each. The red cylinders fell to the feet of Legion soldiers, prompting yells of surprise. They exploded to spectacular effect, apparently killing four of the seven sports-gear-wearing bigots. One of the remainder lost a leg, and the other two were retching and rolling on the ground from the blast wave. Antillicus couldn't hold back a grin as he started towards the living three.

The "crack!" of his first pistol shot rang out, echoing around the surrounding hills. As he approached the second, aiming for the poor bastard's head, the legionary pulled down his face covering and spat at Antillicus. He calmly wiped the saliva away and tightened his finger around the trigger. Cass held her aim on the third, as did ED-E. "That wasn't very nice," remarked Antillicus as he squeezed the trigger.

Blood spattered onto him as he fired a second time, the brass of the ejected shell casing catching the sunlight. "Now, who's this with the dog's head hood?" queried Antillicus as he knelt next to their final captive. The flecks of blood on his face made his grin look all the more ferocious.

"I am the great Vulpes Inculta, profligate. And if it weren't for the fact that I can't move, I'd be tearing you limb from limb right now." The courier laughed. "Now, now. No need to be so hostile. Just tell me...what kind of sick bastard does this to people?" he asked, gesturing towards the crucified Powder Gangers. Vulpes answered with a venomous voice. "One who is just. This town was a haven of evil, and we purified it." Damn Legion, he thought. Always trying to justify themselves.

"Now, I'm getting real tired of your shitty attitude," said Antillicus. "I'd gladly put a bullet through your skull right now, but I need information. I'm looking for a fellow named Boxcars." A perplexed look crossed the frumentarius's face, and then transformed into one of disgust. "He was one who survived. He 'won' the lottery. Now, he's holed up in the general store with two useless legs." Vulpes laughed a dry laugh, then coughed up some blood. "That's all I needed to know," replied the courier as he stood up. A final gunshot disturbed the tranquil air.


	8. Chapter 8 - Closer and Closer

Antillicus could hardly contain himself. Was this "Boxcars" person really the key to his past? Cass was barely able to keep in stride with him. "What's gotten under your skin? And who is 'Boxcars'?" she asked. Antillicus responded curtly. "He's a connection to my past. He knows who I really am." She was confounded by his opacity. "So you don't even know who you are?" He shook his head.

"I came here to discover my identity." Brushing his long hair back, he showed her the scar from being shot in the head. She hissed in a breath. "Ouch," she said quietly. A wry chuckle escaped Antillicus's throat, but to her, it sounded hateful. He wasn't his usual maniacally cheerful self, she noticed. It was as if a dark cloud had settled on him. "Here we are," he said. They looked up to read the weathered sign on the storefront. "General Store," she said, "just like that Legion asshole told us." Antillicus nodded and opened the door.

* * *

Boxcars looked down at his legs and grimaced in pain. Those Legion assholes sure did a number on his legs. He'd escaped death, but he hardly felt like a winner. The lottery was some sick joke, and he had to live with it. That dipshit Oliver had gotten off scott free, and skipped off like some merry fucking schoolgirl. A winner indeed. Boxcars tried shifting his weight, but stopped himself because of the building pain in his legs.

It was just like the Legion to leave somebody to tell a story. He wouldn't soon forget, that was for damn sure. He thought he'd heard explosions and gunshots outside a few minutes ago, but thought nothing of it, sure that Legionaries were responsible. Now, he heard talking outside. A woman's voice. It struck him as odd, given the Legion's stance towards women. Not long after, he was startled by the door opening.

A tall, dark-haired man entered, followed by a redheaded woman and some kind of floating robot. After the door was closed again, Boxcars recognized the man's face. "You? What are you doing here?" he asked hesitantly. The man tilted his head. "I'm assuming you're Boxcars." "You're damn right I am," he replied. "And you're alive even with those Legion fuckers running the town." The redhead spoke up. "Not anymore, they aren't. We gave those bastards their just deserts." Boxcars did a double-take.

"You killed those assholes? Well, goody goody. Serves them right for bustin' my legs to shit." The man nodded. "Indeed it does. I'm Antillicus. I'm here to ask you a few questions." Boxcars looked annoyed. "D'you mind helping me out with the pain before you throttle me for answers?" Antillicus shrugged and dug in his pack. "How's three doses of Med-X?" The Powder Ganger's face lit up. "Shit, I could have a party with this!" He accepted the chems and injected himself immediately.

"That's better...now, what did you wanna know?" asked Boxcars. "I want you to look at this note, and tell me who this "Grace" person is," Antillicus replied, handing him the scrap of paper. "Shit," he said. "Don't you remember Grace? You and her had some sorta grand fuckin' scheme cooked up, planning to rob a casino or some shit with that dynamite."

* * *

Antillicus furrowed his brow. He couldn't remember the details, but fuzzy images came through his head. Grace...he saw her now. Just a shadow, though. "I'm afraid I don't rightly remember...you see, one's memory gets awful bad after getting shot in the head." Boxcars raised his eyebrows. "You came back from the fuckin' grave just because of a scrap of paper? Hell, I'd hate to mess with you." Antillicus chuckled and grinned. "Yeah, I guess I'm one helluva shit-storm. Anyway...where can I find this...Grace?"

Boxcars thought for a moment. "Last I knew, you and her were hangin' out around the 188, you know. She was wanting to get a place on The Strip though." He laughed. "She was always complaining about you, too." Antillicus felt relieved after hearing the information. "Well, thanks. I don't suppose you'd mind if my friends and I stayed a little while upstairs?" The Powder Ganger shook his head. "Hell, don't make any difference to me."

* * *

The second floor of the store was a bit musty, but it had a bed and it wasn't outside. Considering his previous lodgings the past few nights, it was almost luxury. "Want a drink?" asked Antillicus, as he offered Cass a Sunset Sasparilla. "I don't want any of that two-century-old piss," she replied. "I'll take whiskey if you got it." He set the open bottle down next to him and crossed the room to his pack. After rummaging for a few seconds, he extracted a bottle of whiskey from it. "Will that do?" he asked, flashing a smile. "It'll do just fine, thanks," Cass replied, returning the smile.

* * *

The pair laughed and traded stories as they passed the lukewarm drink, growing more and more intoxicated with each swig. "And remember...remember how that guy nearly pissed his pants when I stuck my gun in his face?" Cass chuckled at Antillicus's question, nodding. She then took another swig out of the bottle, emptying it. "You know," she said, clearly drunk, "You're more of a man than half the guys I know."

He playfully punched her on the arm. "I can out-shoot, out-drink, and out-fight every hardass in the Mojave, and I'm smoother than the slickest suit in New Vegas." Cass burst into laughter and collapsed against him, bottle still in hand. "Yeah, I bet," she snickered. "What, don't you believe me?" he asked her, while he wore a silly grin. "Well, I didn't say that. You're just too funny for it!" He rolled his eyes at her playfully.

"Lemme show you a few things," he managed to say. She looked at him, perplexed. "Hmm?" Her look of confusion turned to surprise when he boldly kissed her, pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes opened wide, and then slid shut as she fell into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. Either it was the booze, or it was the long day, but she was extremely tired. So very, very tired... Cass fell asleep in his arms, and Antillicus didn't notice, as he'd fallen fast asleep himself.


	9. Chapter 9 - Respite

ED-E's shrill beeping awoke the two snoring companions. Their groans of annoyance prompted him to stop. "I guess it's time to get up..." Antillicus said, as he rubbed his eyes. "I've got one helluva headache," remarked Cass. He concurred with her. "We should get moving soon...we've gotta get to Novac by nightfall, and it's..." He checked his Pip-Boy. "...already noon." Cass propped herself up on her elbows.

"What happened last night?" she asked. "I guess we had a bit too much whiskey," he replied, standing up and stretching with a yawn. Cass's face flushed as she remembered the kiss, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. Antillicus already had his pack on and was ready to go, if a bit drowsy still. She hastily gathered her equipment, and they left the building together, taking care not to disturb Boxcars, who was apparently still asleep.

When they were back out in the sun, Antillicus showed her the course he'd plotted on his Pip-Boy map. The route took them through some desolate country up to Novac, where they'd rest and resupply. Cass had no qualms about the plan, except for one. "Will we have enough water?" she asked. Antillicus nodded. "Between the two of us, yes. It's good that you asked, though. Means you're staying on your toes." He winked at her and began walking north, following the road.

* * *

After a few hours had passed, the three wanderers had made progress. They'd entertained themselves with music, and Cass also shared a few stories from when she was a caravaner. "The brahmin did what?!" asked Antillicus incredulously. Cass laughed it off and shook her head. "You heard me," she replied slyly. Though they traded small talk, there was only one thing they were both thinking about.

Antillicus mentally kicked himself for being so bold last night. He'd underestimated the whiskey, certainly. As he walked with his hands in his pockets, he started to stay more and more quiet, as Cass did the same. She was thinking about the same event. Was it just the liquor, or did the kiss mean something? She certainly hadn't planned on being swept off her feet by some slick wasteland wanderer, but after the past few days...she couldn't say she'd mind all that much.

* * *

In the distance, Antillicus could just see the outline of the characteristic giant dinosaur up ahead. "Novac, ahoy," he said absentmindedly. Cass strained her eyes to see the town. "Oh, there it is!" she exclaimed. He chuckled. "Nice to see a bit of civilization, again, isn't it?" She nodded. "Can't wait to sleep in a real bed." She shot him a glance, and he laughed. "You think it's my fault we fell asleep on the floor? You're the one who wanted whiskey." Cass rolled her eyes jokingly and punched him in the arm. "Let's keep walking," she said.

* * *

Antillicus looked up at the decaying dinosaur with a look of mild interest. Cass walked right past him with ED-E following close behind, barely noticing the goofy structure. He caught back up to her. "So you wanna get a room?" he asked, breaking the silence. Cass nodded, her mind in a different place. "You seem awful preoccupied," he remarked. "Is there something on your mind?" She shrugged and adjusted her shotgun's sling. "It's nothing."

* * *

After renting a room on the second floor of the hotel, Antillicus decided to give Cass some time alone. He headed up to the dinosaur, intent on resupplying. When he entered, a cheery man behind the counter welcomed him. "Hello there! I'm Cliff Briscoe. Welcome to my little shop here. Anything I can get you?" Antillicus nodded and sidled up to the counter, leaning on it. "I need some 9mm and 20 gauge rounds. If you've got any Nuka-Cola, food, and whiskey, I'll take that too."

* * *

He left the gift shop with his pocket a little lighter, but he was restocked on ammo and he had some drinks. He was sure Cass's mood would brighten when he gave her the whiskey.

* * *

As soon as Antillicus left to buy supplies, Cass flopped down on the bed and sighed. She was exhausted, somehow. Even after nearly 10 hours of sleep the night before, today had worn her out. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until Antillicus returned. "Hi there!" he said, his usual cheerful self. She murmured a reply, which was muffled by the sheets. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her as she fell asleep. Antillicus smiled at her dormant form, lifting a blanket over her body. "Good night," he whispered.

He sat in a chair opposite the bed whose upholstery was stained and worn. After walking for as long as he had, it felt like a cushioned throne. As he relaxed, he popped the cap off of a Nuka-Cola and scrolled through his Pip-Boy, planning their route for the next day. By the time he finished, he checked his clock, noticing it was approaching midnight. "Night, Eddie," he said to his metal friend, giving it a friendly pat. The robot beeped happily. At least, Antillicus thought it was a happy beep.

He settled into the old recliner, borrowing a blanket from the bed. He soon fell asleep as well, leaving Cass and Antillicus's breathing the only sounds in the room.


	10. Chapter 10 - A Drink for Every Problem

When Cass finally awoke the following morning, Antillicus wasn't in the room. She assumed he'd left to do some trading. Standing up and stretching, she yawned magnanimously. ED-E chirped a cheery hello, provoking a smile from her. As she turned back around towards the bed, she noticed a bottle of amber liquid and a note. The front of the note read "From Antillicus."

She turned the note over in her hands and read the back. "I knew you'd like this little present, but you were still asleep when I woke up, so I decided to find some more supplies." Cass smiled slightly and set the note back down, then opened the door and stepped outside. She leaned on the railing, looking for Antillicus. When she couldn't locate him, she decided to wait.

* * *

Antillicus had spent the morning talking to various merchants around town, gathering medical supplies, food, and equipment. Upon returning to the courtyard of the Dino Dee-Lite Motel, he was greeted from the upper walkway with a cordial "Hi there!" and a smile from Cass. He waved up to her and climbed the stairs in twos. "How'd you sleep?" he asked with a smile. "Very well," she replied. "Thanks for the gift."

Antillicus smiled and nodded. "You're welcome." Cass surprised him with a quick hug. "Glad you're back," she said. He returned the gesture with a somewhat awkward smile. "Well, I guess we should be heading off soon," he remarked as he glanced at his Pip-Boy. Cass nodded in agreement. "Let's get ready." She opened their room's door and gestured for him to enter. He complied and she shut the door behind them.

* * *

Within half an hour, Antillicus, Cass, and ED-E were on their way towards the 188 Trading Post. Antillicus marveled at the sight of the Helios One power plant, off to the west. "Does that place still work?" he asked. Cass shrugged. "I don't really know. The NCR took it over after they forced the Brotherhood of Steel out. Beyond that, I guess it's pretty hush-hush." He chewed his lip and gazed out at the old plant, but was interrupted in his thoughts by a familiar noise: gunfire.

"Get down, Cass," he told her calmly and authoritatively as he gestured towards the concrete dividers in the middle of the road. "Use those as cover." She nodded and ducked behind a barrier as bullets whizzed through the air. Antillicus and ED-E followed suit, and he craned his neck to get a look at their attackers. It was another group of raiders, complete with spiked hair and dirty clothes, as per the usual. "Jeez," he said. "Don't these guys have anything better to do?"

Cass peeked over at them, but ducked back into cover as a barrage of lead chipped at the concrete barrier. Antillicus had been itching to try out his new hunting rifle he'd bought yesterday, and now was a perfect opportunity. He quickly popped up from cover, resting the rifle on the edge of the divider. Unfazed by the storm of metal about him, he aimed carefully and squeezed the trigger.

His shot hit right on target, impacting the closest member of the attacking group in the face and shearing off his jaw. The particularly gruesome kill troubled Antillicus's stomach a bit, but it subsided after a cackle of victory emanated from his throat. A stray bullet bounced off of ED-E's armor, making him beep in indignation, but caused no damage. Cass boldly returned fire as well, spraying pellets towards the gunmen with her stout 20 gauge.

"I like this gun!" chuckled Antillicus, as he took the third and final aggressor out with a .308 round to the heart. What do you think? Cass?" She was staring at his hand. "I...uh, think you're missing something..." she said, with a worried look on her face. Antillicus lifted his left hand and was greeted with the sight of his ring finger, which was cleanly severed at the knuckle. "Oh shit."

The wound was already bleeding, and Cass was searching in her pack for medical supplies. "Bullets, Cram, water, whiskey...dammit. Wait...whiskey could be useful. The supplies are in your pack. I think." Antillicus was silently regarding his new stump with a mixture of horror and intense interest. "Does it hurt?" she asked, already prepared for the answer, but not for the one she received.

Antillicus shook his head and merely stared. Cass retrieved the gauze from his pack and attempted to get his attention. "Hey. Hey, look at me." He turned towards her. "Yes?" he asked, in a strange, calm voice. "I need to sterilize it and bandage it. Ok?" He nodded and held his hand towards her. Even when she poured a measure of whiskey on the new wound, he didn't flinch. As she wrapped gauze around the end of the stump, Antillicus began to feel the effects.

He clenched his teeth and made a fist with his right hand. "Argh! Now it hurts like a sonofabitch!" As Cass finished bandaging it and tied off the throbbing wound, Antillicus spoke again. "Gimme that bottle." She obliged, and he took a long swig from it. He gritted his teeth and stood up. "Well, that's done. Let's see what I traded my finger for."

* * *

After looting the new corpses they'd made, the trio traveled further onwards, coming closer to their destination. Antillicus's new wound pained him greatly for the first hour or so, but eventually the pain subsided to a dull throb. It had certainly dampened his usually high spirits. "Great," he remarked. "Now I'm gonna be gawked at when I get married. This elicited a laugh from Cass. "Nooo...scars and stuff like that make you look like a man," she replied.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Well, it's good to hear someone doesn't think I'm deformed. A bullet to the head does wonders for your face, I hear." She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're not deformed..." Antillicus interrupted her. "Hey...see that overpass up ahead?" She nodded, and he continued. "I think that's it. The 188."


	11. Chapter 11 - Four's a Crowd

Joseph pulled a stool up to the makeshift bar's counter. The 188 Trading Post was not the most luxurious place, but it was stocked with supplies. He called for a shot of vodka and the bartender nodded. Normally he wouldn't be venturing this far into NCR territory. However, when going incognito, he was nearly undetectable. He was nothing if not good at his job. He'd been assigned to watch troop movements and supply routes in the area, but he needed a drink and a rest every so often.

He knew what his superiors would think of him drinking alcohol. Such substances were outlawed within the ranks of the Legion. Joseph knew, though, that he was important enough he could pass off the drinking as another device to remain concealed without much trouble coming from it. The bartender set his drink on the counter, and he downed the shot. Vodka, to him, felt like a sort of liquid fire. He enjoyed the feeling of its heated tendrils spreading through his body.

After his second shot, Joseph noticed three new travelers. A tall, dark-haired man, a redheaded woman wearing a cowboy hat, and an eyebot. He couldn't quite place his finger on where he'd seen the man before, but he recognized him somehow. He ignored the thought, and began planning out his movements over the next few days. He dug through his pockets for a scrap of paper to write on, and found a folded paper that was a little worse for wear from being in his pocket.

He unfolded it, and upon reading it, his eyes grew wide. He quickly folded it back up, concealing it from prying eyes. It was a bounty letter, signed by Caesar himself, and the bounty was for a person very near to him now, a man responsible for the death of Vulpes Inculta. He now knew where he'd recognized the tall dark-haired wanderer from. Joseph returned the note to his pocket and thought on how he would need to go about this. 10 Aurei was a fine reward indeed. Taking one more profligate's head to Caesar should pose no problem.

* * *

Antillicus was mildly interested in the outpost, noting its small size. "It's little for a 'trading post', isn't it?" Cass nodded as they passed the makeshift bar. "It's better than the Dino Bite gift shop, that's for sure," she said, and he chuckled in agreement. Antillicus exchanged polite nods with a woman wearing a cloak and a power fist as they walked past. "I bet she's got some supplies," he remarked, pointing towards a woman near a broken-down truck at the other end of the overpass.

Cass let Antillicus go trade and approached the bar. "One shot of whiskey, please," she told the bartender, laying a few caps on the table. He nodded and poured her a glass, setting it down on the counter. She scooped up the glass and toasted The Strip in the distance. "Viva New Vegas, I guess," she said, before emptying the shot. She returned the glass to the bartender and thanked him. She walked over to the railing on the edge of the overpass and waited for Antillicus, hoping they'd be able to find some clues here.

After trading off some excess ammo they couldn't use and purchasing a scope for his hunting rifle, Antillicus met back with Cass. "Where do you think could we find information around here?" he asked as he gazed at the spire on The Strip. Cass shrugged. "I'd try the bartender. They notice things like that." He nodded. "Makes as much sense as anything. Let's ask him a few questions."

As they approached the bar, the bartender spoke. "Can I get you anything?" "I suppose, but what I need is information," he replied. "There's a very special person I'm looking for." "I see..." said the bartender. "And who might this special person be?" Antillicus leaned a bit closer. "I'm looking for a woman named Grace," he said. "We think she spent some time around here."

The bartender's eyebrows furrowed. "I remember that name...say, I remember you and her hanging out around here for a while. You were awful secretive though. She came back a few days ago and told me she wouldn't be around much more 'cause she was heading to The Strip." Antillicus nodded. "Well, thanks, I guess," he said as tossed a few caps on the counter and walked away.

Cass followed him. "Well, at least we're a little closer," she said. "Not by much," he replied. "I was hoping there'd be more for me here. Something...tangible." Cass set her hand on his shoulder. "It's better than nothing," she reminded him. Antillicus sighed and nodded. "I suppose you're right. We should get moving, The Strip's still a while away and we don't wanna be stuck out here after nightfall." Cass nodded in agreement and replied. "Let's go, then. Lead the way."

* * *

Joseph watched the marked wanderer and his companions walk off towards the Strip. Following them there would be a bit more dangerous. He left a few caps on the counter for the barman and stood up. He straightened his slightly stained suit and hat and walked to the railing of the overpass, watching them for a while. When they'd traveled far enough, he began tailing them.

He was careful to avoid being noticed. He'd had much practice at following targets in his years as a frumentarius. His assignments required him to have a wide range of skills, from hand-to-hand combat to firearms use to assassination. Those skills would serve him well in the goal he set for himself: to take the head of the wanderer.

* * *

As Cass and Antillicus walked, they made small talk about nothing in particular, managing to hold a conversation. Cass finally asked a more important question. "What are we going to do once we find this 'Grace' woman?" Antillicus wore a thoughtful look. "I'm not quite sure," he answered. "I guess she'll know what to do when we find her."


	12. Chapter 12 - A Heated Exchange

Antillicus gazed up at the northern gate to Freeside. The walls encircling the Strip were enormous, proportional to the great threats the Mojave posed. Cass seemed unfazed by the sheer size of the Strip, but to Antillicus, the city was a new experience. "Never had you figured for the small-town simpleton type," Cass remarked with a wink. Antillicus rolled his eyes. "I'm not a simpleton. I've just never been to the Strip," he replied, in a somewhat sheepish voice.

After gaining entry, the trio of travelers debated where to go first. "Well, the sun's about to go down," remarked Antillicus. "We should find a place to sleep." "Where, though?" asked Cass. "I haven't been around here much, you know." Antillicus shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine," he said. He cast a glance about, thinking of asking for directions. Cass beat him to it, however. "Hey, where can we find a place to sleep?" she asked a group of bodyguards hanging around the gate.

One answered rather rudely. "I got a place you can sleep, hot lips." This elicited a laugh from the group and a growl from Antillicus's throat. Another spoke out more honestly. "The Atomic Wrangler's got beds. It's down the first street on the right after that door dividing Freeside," he said, gesturing towards it. Antillicus nodded and walked off, surprising Cass with his aloofness.

As she followed, Cass was perplexed. "Why'd you react like that?" she asked. "There's a legitimate threat here," he replied coldly. "Just...don't trust anyone too much." Cass agreed reluctantly and followed him closer, keeping an eye out for possible dangers. Freeside may have been more civilized than the surrounding area, but enemies still lurked.

* * *

As they entered the Atomic Wrangler, Antillicus approached the bar counter. Leaning on it, he struck up a conversation with the woman behind it. "Hey there. I'm looking for a room." She set down the glass she was wiping. "We've got one. It'll cost you ten caps for the night." Antillicus chewed his lip, and then counted out the caps, handing them to her. "Thanks," they said simultaneously. Antillicus nodded politely and started towards the room, with Cass and ED-E following.

As they walked into the room, Antillicus and Cass set down their rucksacks. Antillicus sat on the edge of the bed wearily. He'd been wanting a seat for hours. Cass leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. The two were silent for a little while, until she spoke. "Why'd you act the way you did towards those guys near the gate that hit on me?" Antillicus sighed and rubbed his forehead. "They were being assholes." Cass snorted. "Not exactly a reason to act like I'm your property," she replied icily.

"Fine, go have fun with some strange men, I'm sure they'll be so very courteous," he said, sneering. "Now who's the asshole?" she retorted. Antillicus stood and walked closer to her. "I was being protective of you. I would hope you wouldn't mind me being a nice fucking guy." Cass stood as well, her face flushed. "You're just some wasteland trash, you know that?" He looked at her with hateful eyes. "And you're one world-class bitch."

Cass growled and slapped him, hard. He bit his lip and put his hand to his cheek. The two looked at each other, panting. She stepped forward and did the very last thing he expected her to do: she kissed him. His eyes grew wide, but he returned the kiss wholeheartedly, wrapping his arms around her waist. The two pressed closer, and Cass looped her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips to his with renewed vigor, and he responded similarly. The intertwined pair edged closer to the bed, until she pushed him onto it.

Antillicus watched her from the bed as she climbed onto him. She again found his lips with hers. It became a debate, a passionate battle between lips and tongues. Each sought to meet the other, and lust coursed through them both. When they parted, they only did so to remove his armor. She kissed down his neck as he caressed her head and ran his fingers through her hair. He began unbuttoning her shirt, and she quickly pulled it off as his fingers undid the last button.

With her shirt removed, she felt exposed to him, in the most wonderful fashion. Now, his lips traced their way down her neck, and found their way further and further downwards. She held his head in her hands, biting her lip as his lips and teeth teased her and delighted her. When he laid her flat on her back and began kissing down along her stomach, she knew it was too late to turn back.

* * *

Antillicus awoke with a start. It'd merely been a dream that had startled him, but a very peculiar one. He'd seen a city of white stone in the middle of a desert of white sand, with wind whipping about the pale facades. It had been empty, with not an inhabitant in sight. That was, until he turned to see a stranger in a suit, who spoke to him. "Just remember, courier...you can lose everything in an instant."

The phrase still made his blood run cold. He turned over to see Cass's peacefully sleeping form. She was no doubt exhausted by their long day. He smiled. Their long day, and their amorous activities. He reached towards the nightstand and picked up his Pip-Boy. The time read 3:35. He set the device back down and sighed. He stared into the darkness and thought on what tomorrow might bring.

He whispered the name. "Grace." The word was foreign to him, yet he remembered it, somehow. Searching for her was becoming quite the adventure. He looked back on what had happened so far. He'd killed many men, and befriended two trustworthy companions. He carefully prodded the stump of his left ring finger, the wound still fairly fresh. Sighing, he settled back down in the bed. Wrapping his arm around Cass, he whispered to her very quietly. "I love you."


End file.
